To Smile No More
by Solora Goldsun
Summary: (SPOILERS for Old Oak Doors) Carlos is lost in a faraway desert, bathed in the glow of a cruel, smiling god. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he is not alone: Also wandering the wasteland is a man who has failed his deity, a man whose hideous, bloody smile has been replaced with a stitched frown.
1. The Grinning Horizon

**I was preparing myself to write a fluffy little fanfic as a response to Carlos coming home at the end of Old Oak Doors, as we were all expecting. But, noooooo! Joseph Fink didn't want us doing that, did he? No, he was sitting at his little table with his little co-writers, laughing maniacally while thinking of ways to rake our feels over hot coals! *pant* Ahem, on the plus side, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be: The way Carlos was talking, I thought he'd have to leave Night Vale forever in order to close the doors! At least there's a chance of him going home to Cecil this way. However, one fact stood out in my mind after this episode: Steve Carlsburg threw Kevin through an old oak door. That means that Carlos is in the desert with no one but a bunch of masked warriors, the defeated smiling god, and Kevin. Since Kevin is one of my favorite characters (and the first cosplay I ever put together), I couldn't resist fanficcing this idea! Enjoy! ^_^**

CARLOS' POV

Carlos crouched in the shadow of the mountain that, according to most residents of Night Vale, did not exist. His incredibly scientific umbrella was propped up against the warm stone, further shading his face from the disconcerting light on the horizon. He kept glancing at it, his mouth drawn in a nervous frown.

Ever since the closing of the old oak doors, the smiling god had retreated, but had not vanished. It sat on the border between land and sky, acting as a horrifying substitute for the desert sun, looming constantly, regardless of the time of day. The pulse of white, transparent light threatened Carlos as he wandered the desert. It threatened him as he spoke to the giant, masked warriors. It threatened him as he tried to find spots of blessed darkness in which to sleep.

The masked warriors didn't seem to be affected by the horrible, biding light. Carlos guessed that it was because of the masks that they wore. He asked at one point if he could have one made for him. The warriors didn't answer with words (they either couldn't speak English, or didn't wish to), but Carlos was given the distinct impression that he would need to become a permanent member of the tribe in order to be allowed a mask.

This, of course, was out of the question. He'd be back in Night Vale within the week, surely. He couldn't be joining foreign warrior tribes.

His only solace came in the form of his undying phone battery, which allowed him contact with his fellow scientists, Dana, and, most importantly, Cecil. The nightly conversations with his odd, beautiful, adorable boyfriend sometimes felt like the only barrier between the scientist and a fall into complete, translucent insanity.

Every night, with his head turned away from the horrible light of the smiling god, Carlos would call Cecil. First, they would discuss ways to bridge the gap between the light-bathed desert and Night Vale. Then, they would talk about what they would do when that bridge was made and after Carlos was home.

It was the third night since the closing of the doors and Carlos was shooting down multiple ideas.

"No, Cecil. We can't send a Night Vale citizen through the house that doesn't exist!"

"You said that the doors were open because everyone wasn't where they belonged. Someone just needs to go through the house and find a door leading to the desert. Then, you go through an old oak door first. The citizen will follow and the doors will close again. Besides, it won't be a random citizen! I'll go! That way, even if I get stuck on the other side, we'll be together." Carlos could practically see his boyfriend's three eyes staring hopefully into space, like the violet gaze of an otherworldly puppy.

Carlos breathed a deep sigh. "First of all, I'm not risking you like that. The smiling god has been passive aggressive toward me for the most part. There's no telling how it will react to a Night Vale citizen, especially you! Second, sending a Night Vale citizen through the house doesn't guarantee that they'll get to the desert. It was an old oak door in the house that led to the desert in the first place and I'm not sure if it will even show up. Third, even if this plan did work, there's no way I'm letting all of the old oak doors activate themselves again! I've been sitting in the light of this smiling god, Cecil. It's waiting for an opening to try and take Night Vale again. We can't give it one."

"But, how will you get home?" Cecil groaned. "We have to make a doorway between there and here somehow!"

"Yes, we do." Carlos replied calmly. "But, it needs to be small and quick, so that I can get through without giving the smiling god any room to make another move. I've been looking at the lighthouse. I think that the key to getting out may be in there. Dana told me that one of the angels-"

"Angels aren't real, Carlos." Cecil corrected gently. "Remember?"

Carlos rolled his eyes. "Dana told me that one of the _Erikas_ got you into the radio station using a portrait of the lighthouse. Maybe there's some way to open a door for the...er...non-angels to come through and take me back to Night Vale like they did for you."

"I'll talk to Old Woman Josie." Cecil's voice immediately became bubbly and eager. "I'm sure the Erikas will help if they can! Do you think they can? Oh, I hope they can. I miss you so much!"

A soft smile came to Carlos' face. "I miss you too. When I come home, I'm going to take you on a trip across Europe. We'll tour England, Ireland, France, Germany, wherever you want to go."

"Ooh! Can we howl with the banshees when we go to Ireland? I've always wanted to howl with banshees!"

_Banshees?! Actual banshees? _"Of course we can." Carlos replied, putting a hand on his face. "We can howl with the banshees for as long as you want." _Should I really be surprised?_

"Oh, I can't wait!" Cecil giggled. "I've heard that they really know how to throw a party!"

"Sounds fun." Carlos chuckled. _Hm... If I could measure the pitch of their cries and relate it to the prediction of death..._ "So, what else is new in Night Vale?"

"Ugh." Cecil groaned, immediately switching to his over-worked diva voice (as Carlos called it). "I cannot _handle_ politics! We've got Dana trying to get settled in as mayor in one area. We've got Hiram and the Faceless Old Woman holding protests in the streets while threatening to burn Dana to a crisp in another. Tamika and her group of teenagers have started a private bodyguard service for Dana and there have been street fights all over the place. Really, it's almost enough to make me miss the days of Pamela Winchell."

"I'm sure Dana will be fine, Cecil. Look at what she went through to get where she is."

"Oh, I'm not worried about her!" Cecil elaborated. "I'm convinced at this point that she's invincible or something. No, I'm worried about myself! Do you have any idea what it's like to regularly have angry dragons and old ladies bursting into your radio station and trying to get you to denounce Dana publicly or suffer a fiery demise?! I almost called Station Management for help! _Station Management!_"

"There, there." Carlos cooed. "You'll be fine. When I get home, I'll threaten them both with science."

"Aw! That's sweet."

"Science is a pretty real threat. Maybe I'll-" Carlos suddenly stopped as something caught his eye in the distance. "Um, Cecil? I think there's someone else in the desert."

"Huh? You mean besides you and the masked warriors?" Cecil's voice was immediately alert.

"Yeah. Whoever it is looks...like he's stumbling. I'd better see what's happening. I'll call you once I know more. Okay?"

"Okay... Be careful, Carlos! Call me within a few minutes, okay?"

"Of course." Carlos murmured as he stood up, picking up his umbrella. "I love you."

"I love you too." Cecil's voice was hesitant as Carlos clicked the End Call button.

Carlos pocketed his phone and held up the umbrella as he walked across the sands, trying to get a good look at the distant figure. Whoever it was was human-sized, unlike the giant masked warriors. As he drew closer, Carlos heard a sound like a heavily-muffled scream. The figure was clawing at its face in what looked like pure agony. The scientist picked up the pace, breaking into a quick jog.

His heart lurched as the figure's general shape and structure became apparent. It couldn't be... He had only ended the call a few seconds ago! "Cecil?" He called.

Even as he spoke this single word, however, Carlos realized that something was wrong: The figure was wearing a yellow vest. Cecil never wore yellow. The figure's hair had been bleached by the sun, so it was almost white. Cecil's hair was a darker, more natural color. The figure's skin held an eerie, golden tan, like the skin of a copper serpent. Cecil, despite his desert environment, was deliciously pale.

Carlos skidded to a halt, his mouth dropping open in horror, as the groaning form of Kevin turned around to face him.

His first instinct was to run. If he had been further away and blessed with a more obscured view of the Voice of Desert Bluffs, he would have done just that. He would have turned and bolted as quickly as possible in the opposite direction without a second thought, and that would have possibly been the end of any future encounters.

However, the closer view of Kevin's face caused Carlos's feet to become rooted to the sand: The creepy, usually-chipper man was not smiling. On the contrary, a frown seemed to have been permanently etched on his face. No...it _was_ etched on his face! His mouth had been sewn shut in the shape of a deep frown. Not only that, but his eyes, all three of them, were similarly stitched, making him unable to see or speak. Even now, he was stumbling in the general direction of Carlos, one hand outstretched, desperate to find the source of the voice he had just heard.

Carlos gripped his umbrella tightly with one hand, torn between what was logical and what was moral. Every part of his brain told him to run from this dangerous man. He reminded himself of Cecil's disappearance and how he had been beaten down while still on air after the failed revolution. He remembered what Cecil had told him about Kevin's attempt to try and "fix" little Janice. He remembered hearing that unwelcome voice bleeding through the radio during the times Dana tried to break through and find Cecil. He remembered the shivers that had raced down his spine with every cheerful, overly-gleeful statement concerning "office decorations".

These were all logical points and were surely enough to warrant a quick retreat before the stumbling figure could come any closer. Carlos turned, ready to run back to the mountain, when Kevin let out a pained whimper. The sound was muffled by the stitches on his mouth, but the plaintive pitch was still there. The scientist gritted his teeth and looked over his shoulder.

He saw a scared, pathetic man trying desperately to reach him, begging for help.

With an inward sigh of defeat, Carlos turned and walked over, placing a hand on Kevin's forearm. The golden-skinned man immediately froze, his whimpering coming to a sudden halt. His hand shot forward and gripped Carlos' lab coat, as if he was scared that this one solid thing would vanish if he let go.

There was no turning back, now. "Come on." Carlos sighed. "My equipment is this way. I'll start a fire and see what I can do about cutting those stitches."

A burning, unbearable heat radiated from Kevin's hand and seeped into Carlos through his coat. Despite the sweat that was beading on his face, he shivered.

**So, this is my second Night Vale fic. I hope you enjoy it and I hope that I'll be able to consistently update. I have a bit of a history with not finishing chapter fics... Review, but don't flame unless you want to bask in the warmth of a smiling god. Forever and ever and ever... Peace out! Strex.**


	2. A Stitch in Time Saves None

**Hello, friends! The ideas for this story are flowing, as are the chapters. This one is from Kevin's point of view. I absolutely adore Kevin and know I'll have fun writing him. Enjoy!**

KEVIN'S POV

"SMIIIIIILE!"

This was the last word Kevin would say for a long time. After being thrown through the threshold of the old oak door by an angry, meddlesome Night Vale rebel, he couldn't say anything. He could only marvel at the sheer beauty of where he was.

He had been cast into the light. He was one with the Smiling God. The blinding light that turned everything transparent went through him and around him, filling him with the urge to simply laugh. His lips stretched out so much, they began to crack and bleed, but he didn't care. His sharp teeth glistened and reflected rainbows like twin rows of bloody pearls. He wrapped his arms around himself, hugging his own torso since he couldn't truly hug the brilliance of the Smiling God.

Hands picked him up, tickling his sides and evoking a series of high-pitched giggles. Oh, Lauren Mallard surely _wished_ that she could be so lucky. She could only dream of being this close to He who had brought Desert Bluffs its salvation. She would never come close to the feeling that Kevin felt, that readiness to work until the flesh wore away from his fingers, until the bones whittled to dust, until there was nothing left but an intangible smile and the sound of joyous laughter.

For, Kevin felt all of this. And he was happy.

Then, all of a sudden, as if some force had flipped a switch, he was not happy.

He was in darkness.

The delightful tickle was quickly turning to the harsh touch of very sharp nails.

All at once, a crushing sense of rejection and anger forced him to the ground. He gripped tightly at his hair, which had turned white in the bleaching light, with hands that were now a deep, golden color. He squeezed his eyes shut, but that only made his world darker.

He hated the dark. The dark held lies and monsters and fear. He didn't want to be in the dark, not after so many years basking in the clear light of the Smiling God. He tried to open his eyes.

He couldn't. Something sharp cut through his eyelids and he was unable to move them. He felt a thick, thread-like thing go through the cuts, hurting them further, sealing his eyes shut. The darkness was permanent, now! He was lost!

He tried to smile. If he could smile, there would still be hope!

There was no smile. His mouth retained the downward turn it had gained during his initial fear and was sewn shut in that position, just as his eyes had been. He tried to laugh. He tried to scream. He could do neither.

In his mind, he knew what had happened as if the words had been whispered softly into his ear: He had failed the Smiling God. He was no longer worthy to smile. He was no longer worthy to work. He had been given a glimpse of what he could have had before losing it forever.

This was his punishment. This was his failure.

For days, he stumbled desperately through the desert, tearing at the stitches that kept him in darkness and silence. He occasionally would hear the heavy footsteps of some distant giants. At first, he ran from them. Then, he tried to find them, desperate for any form of human or non-human contact.

His throat was drier than the sand beneath his feet and in his shoes. He couldn't see any distant or near water sources. Even if he could, his mouth was stitched too tightly to allow anything to pass through. He whined raspily, wishing that the Smiling God would end his punishment and let him die.

Was he already dead? Was this his eternal punishment?

He fell once more, barely catching himself on his cut, blistered hands. What was happening to him? He had forgotten what it felt like to burn and blister in the sun. Light had always been absorbed flawlessly into his skin and made a part of his entire being. Now, the light wanted to hurt him even more than the darkness did. He shook his head, and began to silently cry.

"Cecil?"

His head shot up. The voice was near, very near! He turned around, groaning softly, begging this new stranger to help him.

For a few minutes, there was silence again. Kevin panicked as he reached out with his hand, trying to touch the bearer of that voice. As his hand met empty air, he realized with a sinking sensation in his chest that the voice had been calling to his double, his double who was probably sitting smugly in his desk in that awfully old-fashioned radio station. This was a Night Vale voice, surely. It wouldn't help him.

Then, he felt a hand touch his arm. He immediately grasped at the stranger's clothing, feeling soft, though slightly stiff fabric. The stranger was pulling him in a certain direction. He was promising to cut the stitches! Kevin tugged gratefully at the coat as he followed his savior. It occurred to him that this person's voice was somewhat familiar. Where had he heard it before?

After a short amount of walking, he was gently pushed into a sitting position. His back touched something made of stone. He heard the stranger fumbling with something before the sound of crackling filled his ear.

"Thank goodness the warriors have tinder..." The stranger murmured, seemingly to himself.

He had an odd voice that was somewhat nasally, but not annoyingly so. He spoke quickly, with the voice of one who felt that there wasn't enough time to fill the air with what he had to say when he had to say something. And, as Kevin realized over the next few minutes, it was the voice of one who really liked talking to himself.

"Where's that scalpel...? Ah! Here we go. Just gotta sterilize..." There was a pause before a hand that was warm, but not nearly warm enough, touched Kevin's cheek. "Okay, you need to hold really still for this. I'm going to cut the stitches on your mouth first."

"Hm." Kevin replied. That was all he could say.

He was still, even when the heated metal brushed his lips with a burning caress. He felt the sharp blade cut through the first of the stitches after a few tries. The thread, or whatever held his lips together, was very strong. Occasionally, the stranger would pause to put the blade back in the flames before continuing with his work.

He had rough, calloused hands, as if he was one who worked very hard. Kevin could respect that. The stranger also worked with a determined precision, as if he was completely focused on the task at hand. Overall, he seemed to be a dedicated worker. He had spoken Cecil's name, so he was clearly from Night Vale. Still, maybe it was possible to convert just _one_ of those stubborn citizens. Maybe, the Smiling God would forgive Kevin and give him a second chance if he was able to do so. Then, with one citizen converted, others would surely follow!

Kevin was so lost in these hopeful thoughts, he didn't notice that his lips were free until the stranger was nearly done with the last stitch. He took a deep breath through his mouth and ran his sandpapery tongue across his sharp, dry teeth. "Water?" He gasped, his voice barely more than a raspy whisper.

A flask was pressed to his lips and he drank deeply, swishing the water across his mouth before swallowing. Once the thirsty pain had dulled, he stopped. "Who are you?" He asked, licking his lips gratefully.

The stranger hesitated. "Um..." There was rustling as the flask was put down. "I'm just traveling through the area. I'm no one important." The work-worn hand touched Kevin's face again. "You'll need to hold really still for this. I don't want to cut your eyes."

Kevin obediently went still as his savior began carefully, slowly cutting at the bindings on his eyelids. His left eye, completely black and tinged with red, holding no hint of whiteness, was the first one to be free. He opened it weakly, blinked, squinted, and saw nothing. A surge of panic went through his body. Had he been blinded?!

No... No, he could see something. His vision was just really blurry.

The stranger seemed to read his mind. "There's some buildup on your eyes from being sewn shut. I'll clean that up once I get your other eyes. Then, I'll pull the threads out."

"Okay." Kevin replied before going silent again. He felt his larger, third eye become free. Then, his right eye was sluggishly opening and closing. He heard water being poured from the flask before a wet cloth was pressed to his face. The stranger carefully wiped each eye until there was no more residue blocking his vision. Finally, he was able to look at the face of his rescuer.

By the Smiling God, he should have recognized that voice immediately! It was his double's scientist boyfriend, perfect hair and all! Oh, this was too wonderful. If there was ever an ideal person to try and convert...

Kevin kept these thoughts to himself, however. He still needed to have those threads removed.

Carlos looked nervous as he took a pair of tweezers from his bag. He was clearly determined to not look at Kevin's eyes. Why on earth did so many Night Vale citizens have a problem with his eyes? Didn't they like black things?

He barely kept from wincing as he felt a thread come from his lip, leaving a tiny trail of blood on his chin. The wounds from the initial sewing had not completely healed. Would the holes heal over once the thread was out? Kevin hoped so. Much as he loved blood decorating his skin, he preferred it to be someone else's blood. (It was much less painful, that way.)

The process of removing the threads took much longer than the actual cutting. Kevin forced himself to remain still, not wanting the tweezers to cause him more pain than was necessary. By the time Carlos was done, a series of bloody stripes led downward from Kevin's lips and eyes, decorating his gold skin like gruesome warpaint.

Carlos took some small packets from his bag. "You'll probably want to disinfect those. I'm not a doctor, so I'm not sure what all we can do. Use these wipes and I'll see if we have any cloth bandages."

Kevin shuddered inwardly as he unwrapped an alcohol wipe. Bracing himself, he began to run the wet, strong-smelling thing across his face. Tears sprang from his bloody-obsidian eyes and he gritted his teeth as hot, sharp pain shot through his body from his cut mouth. By the time he was done, he was quietly weeping.

Carlos was looking at him with an odd expression on his face. It was a sad look, but it wasn't a personal sadness. It was like the scientist was somehow sad _for_ Kevin. Sympathy? Was that the word?

"I don't have anything that will bandage wounds like that. I guess we'll just have to keep an eye on them." Carlos said as he proceeded to clean and put away his equipment.

Kevin watched him silently. This man could be an asset in getting him out of this desert and back home. More importantly, he could easily serve the purpose of giving the Smiling God a second chance at achieving His goal of helping Night Vale. If Kevin was the one to bring this about, surely he'd be allowed to smile again. Surely, he'd be bathed in that revealing light again.

For, even though the stitches were gone, the world felt infinitely darker than it had been. And, no matter how hard he tried, Kevin could not bring even the slightest smirk to his face. His face held a permanent expression of sadness and fear, and that wouldn't do at all!

How would he go about this? He was used to having help in plans like this from someone like Daniel or Lauren. He hadn't acted independently of someone or something else since...well, he couldn't remember such a time! Did he take Carlos hostage immediately, or did he try to befriend him first and have him let down his guard? Would he need to get his guard down if he befriended him? Would he possibly convert on his own?

Kevin pondered his options as a wary Carlos bagged his equipment. "Um... Are you okay?" The perfect-haired scientist ventured.

After another moment of quiet, Kevin made his decision. Closing the distance between himself and Carlos, he closed his hands around his savior's throat.

**Kevin's personality here will be a little challenging, as I need to figure how he'd act when abandoned by the Smiling God that has defined his whole personality. Hopefully, I am able to keep him in character as much as possible. Review, but don't flame. The hooded figures do not like flames. The City Council forbids them. Do you want the anger of the hooded figures and the City Council? No, I don't think you do...**


	3. Hugs and Scalpels

**Hello, folks! I'm back with another chapter. In reply to "a scientist's" review, I'm glad you caught what I was going for! I never saw Kevin as being evil, particularly after the most recent episode. He stated that he was one of the biggest rebels against the smiling god before he was taken over, after all. I look at him and see what would have happened to Cecil if the smiling god had taken Night Vale. I intend to delve more into my own ideas concerning Kevin's backstory in the near future. I hope ya'll enjoy!**

CARLOS' POV

Carlos let out a strangled yelp, immediately bringing his hands up to grab Kevin's wrists. Despite the creepy radio host's weakened state, his grip was as strong as any one of Hiram McDaniel's five sets of jaws. Spots began to cloud his vision as he tried twisting his foot around Kevin's ankle to make him fall over. All he ended up accomplishing was lessening his own sense of balance.

_Idiot! Why couldn't you have been logical this time?! This was not the time to do things for personal reasons!_ He scolded himself as his mind began to cloud. He clawed weakly at Kevin's arms once more before slumping back against the side of the mountain.

At that moment, Kevin removed his hands. The bloody, yellow-clad man seemed confused. "You don't like hugs?"

Carlos brought up a hand to massage his neck, his eyes wide with shock and fear. "Wh-What?" He gasped, gulping desperately at the hot, dry air.

"You didn't hug me back." Kevin explained, his brows furrowed. "I was hugging you to thank you for saving me. Are you not a hugger?"

"Hugging?!" Carlos stared in disbelief. "You were strangling me!"

"Strangling? No, if I was strangling you, you'd be dead by now." Kevin's voice sounded odd, as if he would have normally chuckled derisively at some point during those sentences, but was unable to do so in his current state. It gave his words an oddly hollow undertone.

_How is he Cecil's double?_ "Hugging generally doesn't involve squeezing one's neck." Carlos explained between large breaths.

Now, Kevin seemed utterly baffled. "What? But, how do you give people that nice, light, happy feeling? How do you make their head feel all balloon-like?"

"Light, happy feeling?" Carlos gaped. "Not having enough oxygen in your bloodstream is not a 'light, happy feeling'!"

"But, it's fun! Sometimes, you'll walk funny and make your coworkers laugh." Kevin insisted.

"That's because you're dizzy from a lack of _oxygen_!" Carlos took a deep breath, unable to believe that he actually had to explain this to someone. "Kevin, where I come from, air is good. Fainting, dizziness, and being lightheaded is bad." When Kevin still looked confused, the scientist breathed a sigh. "I'm not a hugger."

"Oh." The gold-skinned man shrugged before holding out a hand. "What about a handshake?"

Vivid pictures of various hand and wrist-related injuries flashed through Carlos' mind and he took a quick step back. "How about you just sit down and take another drink of water?" Inwardly trembling and keeping half an eye on his dangerous charge, he walked a short distance away and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

_Nineteen new messages within the last twenty minutes. Oh, Cecil..._ Shaking his head, Carlos dialed his boyfriend's number.

The phone barely ran once before that beautiful bass voice rang through Carlos' ear, immediately soothing some of the fear and tension that had built up in his body over the past couple of minutes. "Carlos? Are you okay? Who was in the desert? Was it another mirage? Are you hurt? What-?"

"I'm fine, Cecil." Carlos cut in gently. "There was someone in the desert, but..." He glanced toward Kevin, who was looking at his equipment, particularly the scalpel, with an expression of keen interest. "Erm... You need to promise me you won't freak out."

Cecil huffed indignantly. "Freak out? When do I ever freak out?"

Tactfully deciding to not grace that question with an answer, Carlos coughed quietly. "Um...well... I sort of...uh...ran into Kevin."

There was a brief pause and Carlos could practically see Cecil processing his words. Wisely, he held the phone away from his ear just as his boyfriend's voice exploded through. "WHAT?! That THING is in the desert with you?! Was he trying to trick you with his stumbling? Did you strangle him before he could pull out anything sharp? Is he dead? He is dead, right? Of course he is. You wouldn't be talking to me if he was alive."

Carlos glanced at Kevin, who was staring at his reflection in the tiny scalpel. "Cecil, that right there was a freak out."

"Answer the question, Carlos!"

Resisting the urge to say "Which one?" in a sassy tone, Carlos replied: "He was hurt. I think something attacked him, something powerful. His mouth and eyes were sewn shut. I brought him back to the mountain and cut the stitches. He's sitting by the fire right now." _And is becoming disturbingly fascinated with my scalpel..._ He decided not to mention that last part.

Carlos could hear Cecil taking a very long breath through his teeth. "Carlos? Sweetie? You know that I trust you implicitly, but are you insane?!" His voice was a few octaves higher than normal and there was a definite tremor at the end of each sentence.

"Probably." The scientist said bluntly. "I've lived in Night Vale for nearly two years, now. I'm convinced that I lost my mind at some point during that time." In a softer voice, he continued. "Cecil? Don't you remember the sandstorm? You said that you were glad that Kevin was alive, that you didn't kill him."

"A mistake I'm regretting more and more with each passing second..." Cecil murmured.

"Look, he was suffering. I couldn't just leave him. Besides, I don't think he's the same as he was. He doesn't have that scary grin on his face that you described to me. Actually, he seems almost sad."

"I don't care if he's sad, happy, or choking on tear gas! I just want him away from you!"

"Look, I'm not going to be stupid about this: I'll relocate so I'm closer to the masked warriors. If he threatens me, I'll defend myself. I have science on my side, remember?" Carlos glanced back at Kevin to make sure he wasn't listening. "Besides, I'll be coming home soon. I won't need to worry about him once I find my way back."

Cecil breathed a long sigh. "Fine, but you are now calling me three times a day! I just know I won't be sleeping until you're back."

"Cecil," Carlos scolded. "You know that sleep deprivation leads to impaired cognitive functions."

"I love it when you talk science." Cecil said dreamily.

"Seriously though, I survived an attack from a city of miniature people. I've been surviving in the constant light of that smiling god. I think I can handle Kevin."

"Fine." Cecil grumbled. "But, you'd better come home soon!"

"I'll try. Believe me, I'll try." The two talked for a few more minutes before Carlos reluctantly hung up.

Almost immediately, he closed the distance between himself and Kevin and snatched the scalpel from his hand. "Forgive me, but I'd feel much better if you didn't have any sharp objects at your disposal."

Kevin pouted, his horrifyingly black eyes widening in a freakish attempt at a puppy-dog face. "But, it was pretty."

**Okay, Kevin may turn out to be one of my favorite characters to type here on Fanfiction! Just the other day, I got a ton of inspiration concerning his backstory and what will be happening with Cecil in Night Vale, so updates should be pretty rapid. Do feed me some reviews. I like tasty reviews. They taste of meat. And conflicting emotions. And sawdust.**


	4. New Maple Doors

**Only a few more days till the next episode, fellas. Are you hanging on the edge of your seat? Has my fic helped to lessen the tension? I hope so. Today, we step into what I've decided to do with Kevin's backstory. Then, an interesting development in the desert. Enjoy!**

KEVIN'S POV

Nimble, mildly-tanned fingers turned on an old-fashioned microphone and adjusted a yellow and black headset. A trio of gentle, amber eyes blinked themselves into wakefulness. Taking a quick sip of green tea, Kevin leaned toward the mic and spoke in his soft, falsetto voice. "Knowledge is power. Ignorance is bliss. Bliss is a lie told to children in order to hide them away from the world. Welcome to Desert Bluffs."

There was a pause as the soothing, guitar melody that was the radio station's theme song played over the air waves.

"Hello, listeners!" Kevin chirped brightly. "Just the other day, Grandma Josephine phoned the station claiming that her home in the used car lot, which recently held a large group of angels, has suddenly emptied. She said that the angels had gathered in her living room, chanting in voices that sounded like a combination between the chime of a bell and the screech of a vulture. They were crying, or, they seemed to be. A clear, shimmering liquid regularly fell to the ground from their faces and hardened into crystals on the carpet. They could have been tears, but they may not have been. One can only assume the nature of angel tears, after all."

"Reportedly, one of the angels, which was black, said in a bleak voice: 'Salvation is lost to the sun. We go to the stars. We go to the stars. The sun is a star. We go to them.' Then, they vanished in a flash of pure darkness. Where they are now, no one knows."

"In order to fill the void left by the departed angels, Grandma Josephine bought a herd of giant spiders to live in her home. Sadly, she neglected to purchase a Spider Ownership License from the Desert Bluffs Police Station. As a result, Police Chief Hershel McDuncan, the five-tailed kitsune (which is a magic Japanese fox, in case you didn't know), has confiscated the offending arachnids and is currently waiting for Grandma Josephine to pay her fine. His gold tail was in control that day, so she only got a firm scolding and not an angry bite to the throat. The lesson learned here, of course, is to always research what permits need to be purchased before you make a big life decision. The last thing you need is to go on a quicksand-surfing vacation without the proper insurance, for example! Not that that's ever happened to me, of course." Kevin cleared his throat slightly.

"In other news, we have a new resident in Desert Bluffs." At this, Kevin's face took on a slightly dreamy expression. "Her name is Lauren Mallard and she has recently been transferred to our beloved radio station. Apparently, the radio shows in Desert Bluffs are so unique, outsiders have started coming to research us. Imagine!"

"In case you're wondering more about Lauren, she comes from a small town in the Midwest that she insists no one here has ever heard of. She's really enthusiastic about her new job. And, she has the most gorgeous eyes I've ever seen. Seriously, her right eye is as blue as the pale, summer sky. The left is as brown as the fur on a radioactive, four-armed deer. They're the kind of eyes that one simultaneously admires and hates, because their own eyes can never measure up, no matter what laser surgeries, color contacts, or mysterious, glowing, green stones are used." The radio host sighed softly, adjusting his dark gold tie. "And she's working in _our_ humble radio station."

"I spoke to her the other day and asked how our radio show compares to the ones where she comes from. 'Well, the weather is certainly different.' She replied, her beautiful, blue right eye reflecting my enraptured face. 'And the sheer amount of calm you have when reporting on some of the goings on in the area is simply astounding!'"

Kevin clapped his hands together, his three eyes turned toward the ceiling. "She smiled and it was like a second sun was shining in the station. It was love at first sight, listeners. Love at first sight."

"On to the subject of baseball! The Desert Bluffs Sunbeams recently had a major win against the Night Vale Spiderwolves. Now, I'm not one to put down our beloved sister town, but is anyone really surprised? I mean, not to sound biased or anything, but Desert Bluff's sports teams have always been vastly superior. Also, spiderwolves? What does that even mean? Could you not decide on one animal? Was there a voting mishap that led to needing to combine two violent animals in order to sound tougher?" Chuckling, Kevin shook his head. "Ah, Night Vale. You're weird and totally _not_ as amazing as Desert Bluffs, but we love you just the same."

"And now, Traffic. All cars and hoverboards seem to be moving at the correct speed limit. We haven't had any instances of speeding or of Hershel McDuncan pouncing on moving vehicles while under the influence of his green tail. The roadways are in good repair, and- Ow!"

Kevin winced as a sudden, sharp pain jabbed into his abdomen. "Um, sorry, listeners. It seems that I have been poked by an unseen force, or am drinking the wrong tea." He paused to check his cup for signs of radiation or random bursts of electricity. Seeing none, he looked around. "It's not my tea... Well, anyway- Ow!" He winced as the pain became sharper. "What the-Ow! OW!"

…...

Kevin awoke to a spear repeatedly poking his side. The strangely-vivid dream he had been having faded from his mind as he sat up, wincing as a beam of light from the Smiling God touched his forehead before receding, as if his face was no longer good enough for the transparent light. Groaning, he batted at the spear before the weird mask of a giant warrior came into view, causing him to jump to his feet.

He was surrounded on all sides by gigantic, masked warriors. All of whom were pointing very long and very sharp-looking spears at him. Gulping loudly, he put up his hands. One of the warriors reached for him, grabbing at the back of his vest.

"Hey!" Carlos mercifully intervened. "Easy, now. He's been through a lot, okay?"

The warrior's eyes narrowed beneath its mask and it made a series of grunting sounds, pointing to its eyes, then at Kevin, and then making some sort of sign that looked like it was meant to ward off evil. It dropped Kevin and stepped back in a nervous manner.

_Again with my eyes._ Kevin stumbled to regain his footing, glaring at the warrior.

"He's fine." Carlos insisted. "If he gives us any trouble, feel free to do what you want. He hasn't done anything yet, though."

The warrior stomped its foot and made an opening and closing motion with its hands before pointing toward the ongoing desert. It pointed at Kevin before pointing out at the desert again.

"What's opening?" The scientist asked, his eyes narrowed. "It can't be..." Blinking, he turned to look at Kevin. "Of course!"

The Voice of Desert Bluffs rolled his black eyes. "Yes, of course. Everything is clear, now. The planets have aligned and life makes perfect sense. When you see fit to tell me why, let me know." He drawled in his snarkiest voice, his mood greatly dampened by the presence of multiple spears pointing at his vital organs.

"No need to get an attitude." Carlos scolded. "It would seem that we're going home sooner than we thought. A series of new-looking, maple doors have popped up on the other side of the desert. Instead of Night Vale, however, they lead to Desert Bluffs."

Kevin's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Why are they appearing?"

"Well..." Carlos looked uneasy, as if he knew something, but didn't know how much to reveal. "There is likely...an imbalance somewhere. Fixing it will close the doors."

"Hm." Running his tongue across his lips, Kevin looked toward the transparent horizon. "Maybe, they will stay open. Maybe, the Smiling God can return to Desert Bluffs and Night Vale."

"The same god that stitched its devotee's face shut?"

Reaching out with one hand and grabbing the scientist's neck in a vice grip was practically a kneejerk reaction. Kevin stared at his companion through slitted eyes, even as the warriors started poking him aggressively with their weapons. He held on for a moment before letting go. "That was not a hug." He warned softly.

To Kevin's surprise, Carlos waved off the warriors' angry motions. "I'm fine. Let's just start traveling to the doors, okay?" Rubbing his throat and watching Kevin out of the corner of his eye, he picked up his bag and started following the warriors.

_Hm._ Kevin pondered as he started walking, keeping a wary eye on the suspicious warriors. _He may be a hard worker, but he's too trusting. He has no sense of self-preservation. How has he survived this long? Ah well. He should be all the easier to manipulate if I need to. Once we get to these doors, I'll see if he'll be of any use._

His facial muscles involuntarily moved toward the shape of a smile before a searing pain in his skull stopped him. He whimpered, clasping a hand to the back of his head and pulling uselessly at his hair. He bit his lips with his sharp teeth to keep from crying out, making them bleed even more than they had after the stitches had been pulled. After a moment, the pain dulled to a low throb. _I'm sorry!_ He thought desperately. _I won't smile without Your permission! I promise!_ At this, the pain left entirely.

When he looked up, Carlos was looking at him with that foreign emotion on his face, that one that seemed to mean that he was sad on Kevin's behalf. Sympathy. He knew that he had heard the word once, but couldn't remember where. It certainly wasn't a Strex-approved term.

"I'm fine." He muttered, shying away from an impatient jab from one of the warriors' spears.

Carlos looked skeptical, but didn't argue. He simply waved down the warrior that was poking at Kevin and continued walking.

_I don't understand him._ Kevin thought to himself as he followed, still wincing from the recent attack from his angry, smiling deity. His eyes were trained on this strange, hard-working, intelligent, stupid man who had saved him in the desert, despite their status as enemies, and was protecting him from the warriors, even after receiving a direct threat and a squeezed windpipe.

_I just don't understand him._

**In case I don't update until after the next episode, here's a quick statement: Depending on what happens in the plot, I may adjust what I do in the fic or just continue working off of what I want to do. It will most likely be the latter, unless the canon of the new episode works with what I'm planning. As always, reviews please the Almighty Glow Cloud. ALLLL HAAAIIIILLLL!**


	5. Understanding Danger

**Yeesh. It's a good thing I started this fic. Hardly any updates concerning Carlos from the actual podcast. Hmph... Hopefully we'll get more plot from that department in the near future. Well, here's another chapter. Enjoy!**

CARLOS' POV

"So, you'll be coming home?" Cecil's voice cracked with excitement. "When? Are you almost at the doors? Is Kevin still with you?"

"Yes, in a few days, no, and yes." Carlos replied patiently. "Now, calm down. I can feel you hyperventilating over the phone."

Obligingly, Cecil took an exaggerated breath before continuing. "Has he tried to pull anything, yet? Why haven't you ditched him?"

"He briefly squeezed my neck when I said something to tick him off, but that's it." Talking over Cecil's sputtering, rage-filled response, he continued. "And he's staying with me. I- Cecil, just- Listen! If these doors are anything like the old oak doors, the only way to close them is to have everyone where they belong. That means that Kevin has to return to Desert Bluffs. Otherwise, the smiling god will try to pour through again. Trust me, it's waiting for a chance."

Cecil growled in agitation. "If I see that _thing_ at any point, I'm going to repay him for hurting you. As for the doors, make _sure_ you go through before he does! We don't need you getting trapped again."

"Believe me, I know." Carlos sighed. "I'll bolt through those doors as soon as I see them."

"Good, now-" There was a pause. "Um, Carlos? I just got a text from Dana. She says something weird is going on."

Carlos raised an eyebrow. "Night Vale weird, Desert Bluffs weird, new weird, or the world is doomed weird?"

"She says it has to do with Desert Bluffs and the Erikas... I'd better see what's up. I'll call you right after, so keep your phone handy. I love you!"

"I love you too." Carlos replied, smiling softly.

"Be safe!" Cecil said before a click ended the call.

Closing his phone, Carlos turned around and nearly had a heart attack. Kevin was standing less than a yard away from him. "Kevin, please don't do that!" He groaned, rubbing his eyes irritably.

"You're not leaving me here?" Kevin asked, tilting his head. His scary, black eyes were searching Carlos carefully, causing an uncomfortable tingle to go down his spine.

_How much did he hear?_ Carlos wondered. _Oh no... That means he probably heard me say why the doors are open. _"No." He replied aloud. "I won't leave you here."

"Why do you want to go back so badly?" The blood-coated man's voice seemed oddly low without the cheerful undertone it had always held when projected over the radio. "What's so wonderful about a town filled with hooded figures, vague yet menacing government agencies, and a glow cloud that drops dead animals? And, don't say it's because of Cecil. He alone can't be keeping you there."

For a moment, Carlos felt his mind go blank. He heard the words: "Alllll haaaaiiilll." leave his mouth before he snapped back to reality. "Night Vale is definitely...unique." He admitted, immediately forgetting his brief mental lapse. "It's a horrifying place at times, and a dangerous one. Here's the thing, though: The danger in Night Vale is something I can combat. It's something so strange, I can detach myself from it enough to figure out how to fight it."

"Why not go where there's no danger? Like Desert Bluffs?"

"There's danger everywhere." Carlos explained, his eyes darkening. "In Desert Bluffs, the danger is losing your mind to an entity that only wants to enslave you." When Kevin opened his mouth to protest, Carlos held up a hand. "Cecil told me about the talk you two had before you were thrown through the doors. You said that you were the last person to fight back against the smiling god. Then, what happened?"

Kevin drew himself up proudly. "I came to understand the beauty that the Smiling God offered us. He offered us work, productivity, and happiness. Nothing was ever hidden, because nothing ever needed to be. He made life good for Desert Bluffs." He suddenly scrunched up his face, as if he was trying to keep a smile from appearing, his eye trained nervously on the consistently-glowing horizon.

"Look at you!" Carlos said, pointing at the light. "You're cowering from that thing. You can't even smile or think certain thoughts right now, because it's hurting you. Don't you realize that it took your mind?"

"I gave it to Him." Kevin corrected, staring toward the smiling god with a distant expression. "He accepted it from me."

_He's hopeless..._ Carlos shook his head. "The point is that losing my mind is something I'm more afraid of than hooded figures. Even in the outside world, there's danger. People murder people in the streets. Women can't walk outside at night because someone may jump out of a shadowy corner and rape them. Criminals are given lenient sentences in court and are allowed to walk the streets to kill and hurt again." He gritted his teeth, shaking his head. "And the news reports and reports while people become more and more desensitized, until no one knows how to help. Why? Because they stopped seeing the danger. In Night Vale, I see the danger because of how weird and twisted it is compared to the danger I used to know."

Kevin's brows furrowed, as if he was pondering something strongly. "Doesn't that happen everywhere? Isn't Night Vale desensitized to the horrors there? What makes them different? What makes any of us different?"

Carlos opened his mouth to reply, but found himself coming up with nothing. He blinked a few times before folding his arms. _When he puts it that way..._ After a moment, he shrugged. "I guess we aren't so different. It's just personal preference. I know that I prefer the dangers of Night Vale over the dangers anywhere else. Also, there are enough good things to enjoy that keep me there."

"Like what?"

"Cecil, for one thing." The scientist grinned. "But, it's more than just him: It's all of the people in Night Vale. They are some of the most amazing, strange, kind, dangerous people I have ever known. I could fill a book with the interesting and amazing qualities of just _one _citizen. Also, there's the reason I first came to Night Vale: It really is the most scientifically interesting place I've ever seen. As a scientist, I always have something new to discover and study."

Kevin nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose that makes sense, though Desert Bluffs is pretty unusual as well. You might be interested in studying there. We had a visitor at one point who said that it was strange compared to other places." His brows furrowed. "Actually, she's still there. Who was-?" He let out a sudden shriek and clapped his hands to his head. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He chanted desperately. "I don't remember anything, I promise! Stop, stop, stop!"

A hot flash of rage shot through Carlos' mind and he pulled out his umbrella, unfolding it and moving to stand between Kevin and the cruel god on the horizon. "Back off!" He growled, squinting as he tried to shadow both himself and Kevin. "Just back off, okay?"

Kevin's screams dulled to a series of pathetic whimpers. Finally, he grew silent. "My ears are ringing..." He muttered.

"Still think your god is so great?" Carlos asked, panting as the assault faded.

"Of course!" The Voice of Desert Bluffs was immediately indignant. "I'm being rightfully punished for failing Him."

"What does he give you? What makes Desert Bluffs the ideal?" Carlos shot back.

"Well," Kevin began, folding his arms. "We have great businesses, everyone's happy and smiling. And we have...hard workers. And people always appear happy. And..." He trailed off, a puzzled expression coming to his face. "And..." He gripped his head again, groaning weakly as the light grew strong again. Before Carlos could intervene, the scarred, black-eyed man collapsed in the sand.

…...

Carlos kept half an eye on Kevin's unconscious form as he answered Cecil's call. It had been an hour since the other man had fainted, and he showed no sign of waking up. The warriors had propped him up against some supplies, and refused to touch him afterward.

"Carlos!" Cecil gasped after less than one ring. "Be careful when you get close to the new maple doors! There are Desert Bluffs citizens trying to get through."

"They must know that the doors will stay open if just one of them is over here." Carlos murmured. "Well, great. I get to meet a horde when I go through."

"You may be safe, though." Cecil quickly added. "I haven't gotten to the weird thing that Dana was checking out."

"Okaaaay." Carlos replied in his "please explain" voice.

"Well, you know how the Erikas bought Strex Corp?"

_You mean the angels. _"Yeah."

"Well, they've started taking the citizens of Desert Bluffs and...curing them."

Carlos raised an eyebrow, finding himself looking at Kevin again. "What do you mean, 'curing'?"

"I guess they can use their dark light to get the smiling god out of people." Cecil explained. "I saw them do it to a worker. He was filled with darkness. He shuddered violently before a ray of light shot out of his mouth and vanished. When he opened his eyes, they were normal! They weren't black and soulless. He wasn't grinning like an evil raccoon! He looked...right again."

"I see." Carlos felt a smile coming to his face as he looked at his unfortunate companion.

Seeming to read Carlos' mind, Cecil quickly added: "But, they need to be willing. Tamika's been monitoring the situation and she says that there have been people who have rejected the Erikas' attempts to cure them. Also, Lauren Mallard has started a rebellion to try and get the smiling god back. Her people are the ones trying to take control of the new maple doors."

"Ah..." Carlos' face fell. "That complicates things." He continued to watch Kevin, who was twitching fitfully, as if the bright entity on the horizon was still tormenting him, even in dreams. He scooted closer and opened his umbrella, shading the radio host's face, which immediately became more relaxed. "Maybe, it's possible to convince people to be cured."

An exasperated sigh from his boyfriend made a static-like noise that reminded Carlos of the hooded figures. "You're not going to give up on him, are you?"

"I can't, Cecil!" Carlos insisted. "You haven't seen him like this. He's being tortured by the smiling god. It's probably the same for everyone in Desert Bluffs. It's not their fault. That thing forced its way into their minds and refuses to leave."

There was another sigh, this one more resigned than angry. "I'd be more sympathetic if I wasn't so worried about you. I'm not perfect, Carlos. If I had to choose between saving a hundred strangers and saving one person I love, I'd do the latter every time. Right now, I couldn't care less about the suffering of my murderous double. That may change when I see him again, _if_ I see him again. Right now, though, all I care about is you coming home safely."

Carlos nodded in understanding. "I'm not completely selfless, either. I know that, if it comes down to it, I will fight Kevin if he gets in the way of me coming home. I just hope that I don't have to."

"Whatever you need to do, just try to come home as soon as possible." Cecil urged. "Just the other day, I was trying to get a reservation at Tourniquet and almost reserved two spots before realizing I'd be dining alone. How depressing is that?"

"Did you get the reservation?"

"No... I ended up on the Applebee's website. I really need to work on my typing."

Carlos chuckled. "Only you, Cecil. Only you."

"The point is that I need you to come home, okay?" Cecil continued. "Then, we'll go eat at Tourniquet together. Or Applebee's... I'm not sure."

Deciding to use an old favorite method of teasing his boyfriend, Carlos replied: "Neat!" He was still snickering a few minutes later, when he finally said goodbye to his indignantly-sputtering boyfriend.

Next to him, Kevin shifted in his sleep. Carlos watched for a moment, his thoughts filled with conflicting images of angelic miracles and the simple security that would come with just killing the strange man while he slept. Once again, personal reasons and the fact that taking the latter action might close the new maple doors caused the scientist to turn away and go to sleep, leaving his umbrella open over Kevin's troubled face.

**It's a headcanon of mine that Carlos will randomly say "Neat" just to see Cecil get all embarrassed. It's right up there with Carlos being heavily turned-on whenever Cecil uses science jargon to try and seduce him. Heck, I could write a whole fanfic filled with my headcanons. Maybe I will... Every time a reader reviews, an angel gets its wings! Just don't look when they get them, or you will be blinded by order of the City Council.**


	6. Blood Like Scorpions

**Okay, this most recent episode of Welcome to Night Vale may have killed me. I'm serious. The sheer amount of Cecilos that was present in 'Rumbling' may have just been enough to make me die of cuteness. The odds are in favor of my ghost being the thing typing this chapter. I mean HOLY CUTE! Even better, the events of the episode inspired me and the rumbling in the desert fits in with the overall plot. So, I decided to add it. It may not play as huge of a role, and the reasoning behind it may be totally different, but since this is my fic, I'll take some liberties. The focus, after all, is Kevin and Carlos.**

KEVIN'S POV

"The sun falls on golden sand, which stretches toward the horizon. The horizon slowly dissolves until only dust and fading light remain. Welcome to Desert Bluffs." Kevin smiled at the sound of the recorded guitar as he turned his gaze toward his stack of papers for this broadcast.

"Welcome back, listeners!" He said into the microphone, his voice as chipper as ever. "I hope you've had a good day today. It's Friday, after all, the day that everyone looks forward to the end of. Tomorrow is Saturday, everyone's real favorite day of the week. After that is Sunday, the day we futilely try to stretch out until we're only left with the hope that something large and heavy will fall on our workplaces and give us another day off."

"Well...I should say 'you', since we of the Desert Bluffs Community Radio Station are here every day, giving you the news, weather, and random personal details about ourselves that you may or may not care to hear. And, we're happy to do it!" Kevin beamed, stretching his arms. "I can't imagine a better job than sitting at this desk, sipping tea, and telling you what is happening in our beloved town."

"A new company has decided to make its base in our little desert community. It is called StrexCorp Synernists Incorporated. We are not sure what the purpose of this company is yet, but are certainly happy to welcome new business to Desert Bluffs! We do know that the company's symbol is an orange triangle with an S in the middle. Around the edges is the motto of this company, and I must say that I don't fully understand it: Look around you: Strex. Look inside you: Strex. Go to sleep: Strex. Believe in a smiling god. StrexCorp. It is everything." Kevin shrugged a shoulder. "Ah well. Whatever it means and whatever this 'smiling god' is, I hope they feel happy and at home in our community."

"Our new intern, Lauren, seems to be wary of this company. The other day, as we spoke in the break room next to the Station's indoor onyx circle, she said, with her beautifully mismatched eyes glistening with nervousness: 'I got a look at them, Kevin, the workers I mean. They had no eyes. No eyes, Kevin! And these smiles that made me just want to shudder, but I couldn't move!'" He sighed as he thought back, hating the look of fear that had crossed that gorgeous face. _Someone that undeniably wonderful shouldn't ever be afraid!_ "I patted her hand, and that seemed to make her feel a little better."

"I also comforted her by saying that the Station's Managers seem to have taken a liking to her, as far as I can tell. It's kinda hard to know for sure, to tell the truth, since our Managers are a swarm of black scorpions. They move around their office, a deep sandstone cave, in a way that is somehow unnatural, though no one can say why that is. But, when I dropped by to tell them of Lauren's progress, their movements changed briefly so that their shiny shells were completely shrouded in shadow for a few seconds, making them nearly invisible. I can only assume that that's a good thing!"

"Oh! Before I forget, listeners, the Station has a new pet! That's right, we have a puppy! Her name is Gladys and she mysteriously appeared in the break room just a few days ago. She is very unique in that she doesn't really move. It seems as if she's rooted to one spot on the ground next to the coffee table. Actually, she doesn't eat either. Or sleep. Or really breathe. She just sort of sits there like an adorable statue of a puggle. She is so cute, though! I mean, she's got light brown fur, a pressed-in face, floppy ears, and a little curly tail! I sat by her this morning while I was taking my tea and just scratched her behind one of her floppy ears the entire time. I assume she was happy. She didn't do anything to suggest otherwise. Intern Vanessa is the one who named her. She does have a good track record with naming pets, as she is the proud owner of three baby raccoons and four giant spiders." Kevin suppressed a giggle. "And they're all so _cute_!"

"In other news, Hershel McDuncan, our five-tailed kitsune Chief of Police, was directing traffic today at eight o'clock. Normally, such times are stress-free, but his green tail was in control today, and we all know how he gets when his green tail takes over..."

…...

Kevin awoke to the ground shaking. Before his eyes even opened, he felt a warm weight on top of him and a gust of sharp sand moving past his cheek. "Hmph! Mmph?" He tried to speak, but his mouth was muffled by a sterile-smelling lab coat. After a few minutes, the rumbling subsided and Carlos shifted from his position on top of him.

The scientist's face was cut up from the sand and his glasses were very scratched. He groaned as he sat up, shaking out his coat. "Are you okay?" He asked.

For a moment, Kevin didn't answer. His attention was suddenly focused on a small, red trickle that was traveling down Carlos' light brown face. Leaning forward, he touched his forefinger to the trickle and brought his fingertip to his lips. Curiously, he lapped the droplet with his tongue. A warm, otherworldly sensation shot through his body and he closed his eyes, his mind filled with visions of green grass, laboratories, and oceans. "You really aren't from Night Vale or Desert Bluffs..." He murmured.

Carlos took a step back from him, his dark eyes glinting with suppressed fear. "Yeah, it's pretty well-publicized that I'm an outsider. Why did you just taste my blood?!"

"Blood is very telling." Kevin replied calmly. "Those who worship the Smiling God are encouraged to make people bleed. The insides of people are how we truly know them. That's why we decorate our offices with organs and viscera. It surrounds us with the true essence of people and animals."

As Kevin spoke, Carlos opened one of his duffel bags and pulled out a series of strange instruments. He kept a good distance away as he set them up, but curiosity seemed to be winning over his strange fear. "S-So, you can tell things by...interacting with blood?"

"Yes." _Why does he seem so scared? It's not like I stabbed him to get the blood._ "There's a certain flavor to anyone in Desert Bluffs. It's slightly spicy and warm and makes you think of a burning light and scorpions." For a moment, an image entered his mind of a sandstone room filled with unnaturally-moving, black scorpions. A stab of pain from the distant light immediately wiped the image, however. Hissing softly, he pressed a hand to his brow.

Before he could recover, he was being shaded once again by the scientist's umbrella. Immediately, the pain receded and he was able to think clearly. _Ah..._ He sighed. _So much better. So-_ Eyes widening with horror, he quickly stepped away and into the light.

What was he thinking?! He had actually almost thought that shade was preferable to his Smiling God's light! _Forgive me!_ He silently begged. _Forgive me!_ To his relief, the pain didn't return.

Carlos opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but seemed to think better of it, opting instead to hold the umbrella over his own head. He finished setting up the last instrument. "So, what do Night Vale people...er...taste like?"

"Cool sand." Kevin murmured, closing his eyes as he remembered the decorations he had put up in his Night Vale office and the occasional tastes he would have during break. "Cool sand and slightly-sweet maple syrup."

"And me?"

"You have picked up some of the Night Vale taste, but you're mostly really spicy. Do you come from somewhere south of here?"

Carlos nodded. "Yeah. My family is Hispanic and we lived in New Mexico before I went to college. Though...I honestly can't say whether my old home is even south of here. I don't know where here is any more than I know where Night Vale or Desert Bluffs are."

"Well, it doesn't matter." Kevin shrugged. "We'll both be home, soon. We'll be happy."

"Yeah..." Carlos bit his lip for a moment. "I kinda want to know what that rumbling was."

"It was the Smiling God. He is angry. He wants to continue His great work, but is being kept from those who would benefit from His guidance." Kevin explained. Though he had been half asleep at the time, the power of his deity was unmistakeable.

"Hm. Well, the light became more intense when the rumbling happened." Carlos muttered as he checked the devices, some of which were spinning while others were making whirring noises. "I should call Cecil."

Kevin watched as Carlos walked away, dialing excitedly on his phone. _He seems happy. Maybe, the Smiling God is affecting him, after all. _He thought, quickly forcing down a smile that threatened to pop up on his own face, keeping a wary eye on the transparent horizon. He distracted himself by thinking of the taste of outsider blood. _I tasted outsider blood before._ He remembered. _It was cool and sweet, like honey and mint. I...I tasted it when..._

As another bolt of pain shot through his skull, he quickly pushed the thought away.

**Sorry this update took awhile. I recently got into RWBY and have been working on finding inspiration for a nice little oneshot. I haven't forgotten this fic, though! Don't worry. Review, but don't flame. Flames cause all Cancers and Taurus's to die slow, painful deaths. Since I'm a Cancer and Carlos is a Taurus, that wouldn't end well by any stretch of the imagination. I wonder what Kevin is. Hm...**


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